


victory, but at what cost?

by lexacoon



Category: Seattle Snowpocalypse
Genre: Other, War, seattle snowpocalypse - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 02:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17757665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexacoon/pseuds/lexacoon
Summary: A garbage bag needs to be taken out to the dumpsters, but a treacherous path lies before the final destination. Will it ever get thrown out?





	victory, but at what cost?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeasInkarnadine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasInkarnadine/gifts).



My eyes locked with my enemy as I approached it, wielding my mighty weapon: a dustpan. The battleground was treacherous; the rain pounded down on the white snow and churned it into a vicious stream of sludge. I did not have the proper armor for this combat but I was determined to put my best boot forward, even if it was not waterproof. The gray mire immediately swallowed my feet whole, oozing its cold and wet substance right through my boots and taking residence in my socks. Still, I would not give up.

I strutted towards the overflowing dumpster bins of the apartment residence, my trusty pan in one hand and a bag of week-old garbage in the other. The muck threatened to send me twisting down with each slippery step, but what it did not know was that I had prepared for this. _Finally, all those years of practice with keeping my seat on feisty horses who would try to buck me off, or threaten to send me flying with a single stumble has paid off. I am Fully Balanced._

At last, I reached my destination. The dumpsters taunted me with their hazardous trash threatening to spill on me at every turn, daring me to change my mind and turn back. But no. I would prevail. 10 inches of thick snow had accumulated on top of the dumpster lids, waiting to see if I would rise to their challenge. I raised my dustpan and plunged it deep into the heart of the snow without mercy. It sloughed off the lid slowly, clinging to the last of its reign. By the time the first piece of snow fell defeated to the ground, I had already shoveled my way deep through the snow. I fought relentlessly, hacking and shoveling away as quickly as I could.

My dustpan was but a humbly made weapon, and this battle was pushing it to its utmost limit. Alas, in its brave fight, it had torn away half of its rubber strip. I cringed at the injury, but was relieved that it was not fatal, and pressed on. I had plowed all the way to the last defense line of the snow, and as they retreated to the highest point of the dumpster lid I found myself barricaded by a sudden appearance of another enemy of mine: Height. Still, I was determined to see to the end of this conquest. I shamelessly used the cadavers of the fallen snow on the ground to elevate myself. As I towered over the lingering forces of the white brethren, I was overwhelmed with adrenaline when I knew that my triumph was imminent. With a mighty battlecry, I swept the last of the enemy over the lid, sending them to their final resting place.

The battle was won. I stood there heaving with breath, gathering my senses back to me. My wrists ached, reminding me that I was not as spry as I once was. Although I was now a Young Adult suffering from Carpal Tunnel, I did not let that stop me from stubbornly pushing on through the fray for the better of my people. Right now, there was one more task to do before I could go back home to my roommates and celebrate the success of the mission. I picked up the garbage bag I had brought with me, and mentally prepared myself for my next challenge. With absolute resolve, I laboriously lifted the lid of the dumpster and slung the garbage bag inside its contents. Finally. It was over. The 10-foot walk through the mucky road back home seemed like nothing compared to what I had just faced.

Victory was mine.

Rest in peace, Wet Socks. You will not be forgotten.


End file.
